


Counting

by orphan_account



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Guns, M/M, Original Character(s), Weapons, first fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 01:29:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	1. Chapter 1

One shot

It was normal to hear such sounds in Ikebukuro.

That is, the sounds of the average man currently fighting each other; To the death, however, was a different sight to see.

One man in a fur-trimmed jacket wonders how long it will take until...

Two blades hit their target spot on.

One more down, around sixty more to go.

...until the policemen’s backup decide to show up.

But Izaya Orihara’s starting to, for once in his lifetime, doubt that they’ll come.

Not with the constant sounds of gunfire, the yells from fallen gang members, the previous policemen’s cries of pain,

Which was then topped off with that stupid beast’s incessant roaring.

Now don’t get Izaya wrong, his love for humans still burn bright within his heart.

His flame of hatred for Shizuo Heiwajima however, had to be blown out for the moment.

If he wanted to survive the night.

Izaya had tried to blow out his pride as well. The flame remained. Smaller, but just as bright.

He just simply won’t tolerate the stupidity of these particular, stupid gang members. They obviously had no idea who “Izaya Orihara” was - who those two together were.

_'How foolish.'_

The brunette quickly drops to floor and hides behind a crate, the whizz of bullets passing by on either side of him.

_'Breathe in, breathe out.'_

He takes a moment to himself, genuinely wondering if he’ll ever make it to his beloved Valhalla.

 _If_   he could win.

If _only_ he could make it out of here.

Worries are broken by a familiar, deep howl.

_‘Ah that’s right,’_

There’s no need for something as ridiculous as worry.

For his monster is here.

 

Two shots 

To say that Shizuo Heiwajima was furious was a grave understatement.

He was pissed beyond belief.

Which was demonstrated quite clearly by how he sent twenty men flying into the steel walls, picked up a steel I-beam like it was a tree branch, and sent twenty-five more people flying to create beautiful dents full of red on the silver surface.

The blonde paused to take in a well-needed breather. Blue, bulging veins could clearly be seen, matched with a dark crimson streak running down the left side of his face from his head injury. But Shizuo Heiwajima never acknowledged it -

It didn’t hurt him anyways.

A soft _‘thump’_ could be heard behind him. It seems like the flea had recovered enough to continue.

Back to back, they survey their surroundings.

It was strange; you could even say it was unnerving just a tad bit. There should have only been just a handful of them left.

But the number around him and the brunette didn’t seem to have decreased.

It seemed to be multiplying.

This little fight should have ended hours ago.

The ex-bartender and the information broker realized that.

 

Three shots 

In that moment, the two strongest men in Ikebukuro also came to realize that the faces ranging from delinquent teenage boys to forty year-old men became unrecognizable among a sea of…

...black?

‘They can shape-shift too,’ they think simultaneously, ‘they can keep hold their weapons.’

The gang members were replaced with shadow-like entities.

Shadows that advanced towards the two enemies at once.

But from where? Who? Why?

Now wasn’t the time to ask questions.

“Shizu-chan.”

“Yeah.”

And so, they continued.

 

Four 

By now, Izaya has come to accept the fact that the police or anyone really, wouldn’t be arriving.

No outside help or interference of any kind will show up anytime soon.

Knives are thrown once again, shadows fall, a grunt resembling the word,

“Thanks.”

The brunette lets a small smirk appear on his sweaty face.

Metal hit metal. Fur-trim and blonde sharply contrasted against black.

Screams turned into eerie groans.

A brief thought pops up, but is quickly discarded.

_‘These aren’t Celty’s.’_

 

Five shots 

Have those two ever heard of the saying, “The stronger you are, the harder you fall?”

Oh dear, the sound of more gunshots just rang through.

 

Apparently not.

Poor, poor Mr. Orihara.

Being caught like that wasn’t part of your agenda now was it?

Oh, we’re almost done here now, aren’t we? How exciting!

_‘...Who are you?’_

Please continue, it won’t take you long now.

 

Six shots 

Pain courses through the thin man’s body.

More importantly, in the middle part of his body.

Stomach, sides, ribs, stomach.

Wait, he’s already thought of that.

Black has taken over his vision. White noise could be heard from the outside? Or inside his head?

The concrete floor has such a nice cooling effect on his skin.

Even though it’s stained the cement beneath him with red.

Well now, that can’t be good.

It’s probably coming from him.

_‘...how foolish.'_

He’s unable to move. 

Too tired.

Can’t move. Can’t speak. Can’t see. Can’t hear.

Except for a faint, desperate cry of his name.

Izaya catches it.

He also catches something with his unresponsive body.

Something...heavy.

His sight starts to return, his breathing catches.

Black fades to blonde.

Breathing becomes harder, coming out faster.

_‘Ah, you got shot didn't you? Stupid Shizu-chan.'_

A large hand reaches up to cradle Izaya’s head.

"....ry.........you....zaya..”

Frantic breaths slow to a stop.

“Me too.....Shi....”

_‘You’re so warm,'_

 

Seven shots more.

_'so warm.'_


	2. Chapter 2

One man spurted profanities, the other man screamed.

Two men were soaked from cold sweat.

Three minutes pass, trying to control their breathing;

“Calm down, calm down. It’s just a stupid dream,”

Four times, they repeated.

Five times, for good measure - for themselves to be convinced.

Six minutes have passed; it is now six in the morning.

Seven attempts made to get out of bed, but denial of the two men’s shaking limbs only allowed jerky movements.

Eight times have the urges come to call, to go visit, to start their game of ‘cat ‘n mouse’ early.

But their pride - _"_ _they’re stubborn" -_  won’t allow them.

There’s no need to worry, because the other is fine, _‘they’re probably still sleeping.’_

Nine times they remember dying; the dream didn’t disappear within ninety seconds.

Nine times they remember, one was overrun, the other tried to save.

But nine times they can’t remember, what is was that they had said.

 

_"Because they don't need to know - yet_ _. ...Let me have some fun..."_

 

Ten o’clock has struck, the two have started their day late.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

 

**1:00pm**

For the majority, everything was normal. People, people, more and more people. Constantly moving, constantly going. Go, go, go.

_It’s all such a blur._

Looking from above has become boring though.

Especially without their favorite human and monster.

A lop-sided smile graces their face as they move to up from their chair.

“Three.”

 

**2:00pm**

The two men have continued with work after their slow morning. Nothing out of the ordinary, everything was fine.

 

**3:00pm**

Everything was fine…

 

**4:00pm**

Everything. Was. Fine.

_‘...Right?’_

 

**5:00pm**

To be honest, he’s surprised he’s gotten this far into the day without shooting his brain out.

It’s annoying. It’s distracting. He’s pissed beyond belief.

Izaya was currently in a struggle between going to see if Shizu-chan - his monster -  was okay or continue gathering information for Shiki-sama.

His monster, because Shizu-chan would always be his mess with. His to hate. _His_.

Although he sometimes he’s wondered what would happen (to the city, the people, his friends, Izaya himself) if the beast went away…

Went away…

Went -

_Blood stained the cement around them._

_Can’t move. Can’t speak. Can’t see. Can’t hear._

_The static in Izaya’s ears grew louder._

_"....ry.........you....zaya..”_

Izaya jerked, more alert now, rubbed his eyes and  shook his head. He briefly wondered just exactly when he started to daydream. Namie looked up from the pile of documents on her desk and quirked an eyebrow toward the shaken man. But he waved her off and set out to continue his data collection.

Only to end up swearing out loud and slipping his parka on before slamming the door behind him.

_‘Stupid Shizu-chan.’_

 

**5:30pm**

The distant cry of a poor soul could be heard heading halfway across the city as Shizuo turned back, grumbling to himself as he walked back towards Tom.

“You sure you’re alright man? You’ve been on edge since this morning,”

Tom questioned as he continued walking. But he paused as he saw the half-hearted glare the blond gave him before shaking his head and gave a deep sigh. Shizuo knew Tom was only concerned, but he couldn’t help but be so, so... _irritated_.

Maybe worried was a better word.

Not that he’d admit it.

“M’fine. Really. Just had a lot on my mind. Only 4 more left right?”

Tom caught on to the change in subject and decided to leave it at that.

“If you’re sure. Yeah the last few shouldn’t take more than two hours.”

Tom paused. Then with a hint of urgency he quickly said,

“Shizuo - “

“Yo, Shizu-chan!”

Mentioned blond whipped his head around to look over his shoulder.

 

“...Fuck.”

 

**10:00pm**  

Shizuo’s day had finally come to an end. After a quick, “Good work today,” to Tom, he dragged his feet home to just collapse on the couch. The bed was too far away, and Shizuo truly believed he wouldn’t be able to get back up and shuffle his ass the few feet it took to reach his bed.

He closed his eyes, deeply sighing for the thousandth time that day, recalling everything that’s happened in the past couple of hours.

...And he was confused.

He was worried.

He was pissed.

He was scared.

He was relieved.

 

He didn’t know what to think anymore.

Maybe he shouldn’t think at all.

Shortly after that, Shizuo fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

**6:45pm** , that same evening.

Alleyways in Ikebukuro were usually used to get to destinations faster, store garbage, house some gang members, maybe to commit some poorly planned murder.

 

The red-eyed brunette didn’t think that alleyways were ever used like this before.

He didn’t think he’d actually be caught there.

Being held there.

Gently. Oh, so gently.

But also firmly.

To, maybe reassure the person holding him.

Feeling the breath of another man against his pale neck.

Holding the person in front of him back.

No, _clinging_ to him.

 

Izaya Orihara was hugging and being hugged back by none other than his blond arch-nemesis. His monster.

His monster. His to mess with. His to hate. His to constantly think about. His to worry about. His to hug. _His_.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Shizuo thought the same thing.

A figure goes unnoticed by the two, slowly turning around from it’s position behind the edge of a building, heading down the alley before blending into the crowd.

 

“Two.”       

 


End file.
